Red Hot Rose Boxed Set (17 page)

Alexander shrugged.
 
“She was there.
 
She was willing.”

“Oh.”
 
I instantly found myself deflated into a mass of self-loathing.
 
I was just there.
 
At that party
.
 
Willing.
 
Ugh.
 
I’m just like her.
 
I’m a nasally vulture floating over roadkill.

Alexander put his hand on my leg.
 
“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” I asked, looking straight ahead and trying to ignore the heavy heat of his wide palm on my bare skin.
 
It tingled with promise.

“Questioning what we have.
 
Equating yourself to her in any way.
 
It’s just wrong.”

“How so?” I asked, daring to look at him, forcing myself not to let the tears of self-pity rise to the surface.
 
There was a reason I rarely drank.
 
It always made me overly emotional.
 
“I was just
there
at that party … convenient.
 
Paid
to be there, as a matter of fact.”
 
I shook my head, frustrated that the champagne was making me feel so weak and stupid.
 
“Never mind.
 
I think I’ve had too much champagne and wine and … well … everything.
 
Too much of everything.
 
This is a bad idea.”

Alexander pulled his hand away.
 
“Too late.
 
You’ve already agreed to my terms.
 
You’re contracted to me.”

I frowned, trying to recall how far we’d gone in our negotiations.
 
I may have had a lot of wine, but I sure didn’t remember being handed a pen at any point.
 
“I haven’t signed anything yet.”

“Oral contracts are valid in Florida.
 
You’re already committed.”

The word
oral
had me thinking thoughts I shouldn’t have been.
 
It was making it too difficult to deny him anything he asked for.
 
“Whatever,” I scoffed.
 
“You have to agree that it’s a terrible idea, and you should just let that Samuel guy keep doing what he’s doing.”

Alexander frowned at the exact moment I realized my mistake.

Oh crap.

“How do you know about Samuel?”

“Uhhhh … I read it in the paper?”

“No, you didn’t.
 
You would have mentioned that before.
 
You picked apart my campaign management to its smallest pieces over dinner tonight, and never
once
did you mention him by name.
 
In fact, several times you just said,
‘Whoever is managing your campaign.’
 
You didn’t know who he was until after you were in the bathroom with Jacqueline and Celeste.”

“You know her friend too?”
 
I said weakly, too tired to deny it or fight anymore, hoping I could maybe distract him with the smaller details instead of the great big whopper of a detail which was that he had traitors swimming like sharks around him in the ocean of his campaign.

“Yes.
 
They all run in the same, small-minded circles.
 
Don’t try to change the subject.”

“I’m not,” I sighed.
 
“I’m just tired.
 
Can you please just take me back home?
 
We can talk about all this job stuff tomorrow.”
 
That’s when I’d straighten him out and let him know in no uncertain terms that it was a terrible idea and would never ever work in a million years.

Alexander reached over and patted my knee.
 
“Sure.
 
Why don’t you lay your seat back and relax?
 
I’ll wake you when we’re there.”

I nodded briefly, my head swimming with the aftereffects of the alcohol and stress.
 
“I’ll just close my eyes for a minute.
 
Wake me up the second I start to snore.”
 
I glanced over in time to see him smile, letting the sweetness of it warm my heart a little.

“I will.
 
Just push the button on the side of your seat there - it’s automatic.”

I did as he instructed, sighing with pleasure at the warmth coming up through the leather seat and the soft cushions under my back.
 
Just a couple minutes of rest, and I’ll be as right as rain.
 
Ready to tell him no and goodbye for the rest of my life.
 
No more Alexander Blackstone.
 
No more political games.
 
No more bitches in the bathroom.
 
No more awesome sex.

“Alexander?” I said, my eyes closed and my conscious mind slowly spinning off into another world.

“Yes?” he answered softly.

The words came out as one big mumble, making no sense really but feeling like they needed to be said.
 
“What do you really want from me?”

I fell asleep before he could answer, but in my silly schoolgirl dreams, I heard one word:
 
Everything.

My head made a soft rustling sound as it moved across the very soft sheets of the bed.
 
I kept my eyes closed as I stretched, my fingers sliding slowly over the cotton coverlet lying over me.
 
I moved my legs apart, wondering why the bed felt so much smoother and more luxurious than I remembered.
 
The flannel sheets on my twin bed were much nubbier than this.
 
Weren’t they?
 
It was when my foot bumped up against a very hard, very hairy, very
naked
leg that my eyes flew open.

I sat up quickly, totally confused and disoriented.
 
“What the …,” I whispered, looking around, frantically grabbing the sheet to my chest.
 
The sun was streaming into a window I didn’t recognize, illuminating a room I’d never been in before.
 
And I was totally naked.

The 4-poster bed I was sitting in was about three times the size of the one in my apartment, and it was made up with cream-colored bedding that I could tell just by feel had cost a small fortune.
 
Alexander’s bedroom.
 
Oh.
 
My.
 
God.
 
What have I done now?

The man beside me whose face I couldn’t see, groaned and moved.
 
His hand roamed over the covers, coming in my direction.
 
I froze, the sheets gathered up in my hands in a feeble attempt at covering my naked form.
 
There wasn’t enough of the material to do a decent job, especially with this big person next to me taking most of them and tangling them around his sleeping form.

His fingers bumped into my leg and then moved around it, slowly making their way to the space I really, really wanted to keep covered and out of his reach.
 
My hand flew down from my chest in a panic to stop his progress.
 
I grabbed his wrist, and for a moment we both sat there unmoving, in a silent battle of wills.

And then Alexander came out of his sleepy haze, pushing himself up onto his elbows long enough to reach out an arm to wrap around my lower body and pull me over until I was under him.
 
My rear end sliding across the mattress warmed it up in a hurry.

Still completely silent, he got up on his hands and knees and grabbed me by the waist, pulling my body down and making me fall onto the bed until I was once again lying on my back.
 
I had abandoned the sheet, gripping the pillows on either side of my head like they were life preservers and I was being thrown overboard.
 
I wasn’t afraid.
 
On the contrary - I was aroused at the silence, his commanding actions, the strength I could sense in his hands and arms.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, looking down to my waist-level at his grizzled face and sleep-tousled hair.
 
I’d never seen a more dangerous-looking, sexier man in all my life.
 
He literally took my breath away.

“Having breakfast,” he growled, before slowly lowering his face into the nest of hair between my legs.

I struggled to get away, the mesmerization created by his gorgeous morning face disappearing in the wake of my potential future shame.
 
“No!
 
I need a shower!”

He reached up with a hand blindly, placing it on my stomach to calm me.
 
Lifting his head enough to see me over my mound, he whispered, “Shhhh … you’re perfect exactly like this … let me.”

I stared at him aghast for a moment, but quickly realized he was serious and struggling was futile.
 
I really didn’t want to get away.
 
My head fell back down to the pillow, unable to resist him now that his tongue had actually made contact with my hot folds.
 
I released a shaky breath, knowing I was a goner already.
 
My grip on the pillows loosened ever so slightly, and three licks later, I was already dripping wet, wanting more than anything to open my legs wider and give him better access to every single inch of myself.
 
God, I’m so friggin easy
.

“Mmmmm … you taste so good,” he said, breathing hot bursts of air onto my clit.
 
“You make me crazy with the way you smell.
 
It’s like a drug I can’t get enough of.”

My face flamed red at the thought, but the idea of him being driven wild first thing in the morning by my musky scent was both ridiculous and flattering at the same time.
 
It made me want to touch him, taste him, see if I felt the same way about his body.
 
Maybe he’d still have my scent on him from the night before, if he hadn’t taken a shower while I was passed out.
 
I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but I was willing to try it out for the sake of adventure.

Before I could consider it anymore, I was distracted from my thoughts by the heat that was building inside me.
 
He had slid his tongue up one of my passion-swollen lips and then the other, deviously circling my button without actually touching it.
 
I writhed with anticipation, my breath coming in short gasps as I felt him getting closer and closer to it with each tender lap of his hot tongue.
 
It was driving me insane, and I had to focus hard on controlling the screams of frustration that wanted to come bursting out of my throat.

“Oh my god,” I whispered when he finally made contact with my sensitive nub, unable to stay silent anymore.
 
The force of my voice was gone though, now coming out high and breathy.
 
“Oh my god, Alexander … what are you doing?”

“Making love to you,” he said back in a soft but dangerous tone.
 
He changed tactics just as I was getting close to losing it, putting his whole face against me and driving his tongue inside.
 
In and out it went, stopping only to go up to my clit and circle around for a second before going back down to my hole.
 
Over and over he did this until I was ready to cry with the urgency.

“I’m going to come!” I whispered desperately, swallowing hard over my dry throat, not wanting him to stop but at the same time wishing it could last.

“Wait for me,” he grunted, climbing up so fast, I didn’t realize he’d stopped until he’d taken me by the waist and flipped me over onto my stomach.

I was suddenly disoriented and confused, my pussy pounding and pulsing with desire, but now feeling suddenly empty and abandoned.
 
“What are you doing?” I half wept-half begged.

“I already told you,” he growled once more.
 
“I’m making love to you.”
 
He yanked my hips up into the air, exposing my rear end to his waiting cock.

I squeezed the pillows above my head in barely contained ecstasy.
 
I’d never had anyone push me around in bed like this, and I was ashamed to admit I liked it probably way too much.
 
He wasn’t hurting me at all; he was just showing me he was boss.

He took the tip of his rod and put it up to my slit, rubbing it all around and covering it with my juices.
 
Within seconds it was sliding its way to heaven.

I lifted my hips as high off the bed as I could, anxious and nearly to the point of begging to have him inside me.
 
I could think of nothing else but the feel of that hard fleshy steel, penetrating me all the way to my core.
 
I’m shameless
.

I nearly wept when he pushed his cock’s head into me, pulsing just the tip in and out in short little strokes.